


Useless Subroutines

by Rivestra



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Gen, Misses Clause Challenge, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2802764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivestra/pseuds/Rivestra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Rudy is a crazy cat lady in need of rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Useless Subroutines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AleksanteriAgitshev](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AleksanteriAgitshev/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, [AleksanteriAgitshev](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AleksanteriAgitshev)! I hope my story makes your holiday shine a little brighter. I like my AH with a side of Dorian/Kennex; for this story, I kept it at a background preslashy level that I think can easily be read as partnership love instead, just in case you don’t.
> 
>  **Acknowledgments:** I seriously cannot thank my dear [Snarkgoddess](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SnarkGoddess) enough. I honestly don’t think this thing would have come to fruition without you!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Written purely for fun; no profit or harm intended. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.

~*~*~*~

Three days.

It had been three days since I’d heard from him. Three was a rounded number, its edges shaved off to make it more easily accepted, benign. It had been 3.358 days. 

Unheard of. Out of pattern. 

Dangerous.

I paced the length of floor behind his desk. It was a useless subroutine, but still my feet moved. I checked his messages again, verifying only that the alerts I’d set were still working. There was nothing there that I wasn’t already aware of.

It had been more than four days since he’d last been home. If I hadn’t been here, four days would qualify as neglect.

But I was here. Had been.

But he’d never counted on that before. He would have asked. He would have told me.

Five steps left, three steps back, and I sat at his desk. Twenty one keystrokes to log in to his station. Thirty eight more to activate his encrypted shell. Another 159 to log in to his private system.

I could have done it all with a direct link--I even had permission, provisionally--but that would have been too much. Intrusive.

I searched.

I found nothing for the last 3.967 days.

Backing out of the encrypted space, I downloaded the station logs. 

More nothing.

 _Too much_ nothing.

Analysis of previous statistically similar periods indicated his name should have been mentioned in the squad room a minimum of 13 times in each of the last three days. Five if he’d been on leave, which HR confirmed he wasn’t.

Station chatter on the whole was down by 16%. Detective Kennex’s communication was down by 85% and consisted solely of twice-daily calls to Captain Maldonado. Transcripts of their calls were not logged; Dorian was an active participant, was taking them off the network as soon as they occurred. 

Their next call wasn’t for almost ten hours.

That was too long.

~*~*~*~

I created a checklist. I’ve never needed one before, but he won’t thank me for neglect.

Methodically, I set auto replies to reroute urgent calls, advising caution but specifying nothing. I created a proxy to answer the ones already received. I knew I’d have to have him back by Sharl’s extraction time for sure--there was no way they’d deal with me instead--but everything else could be paused for a while. 

When I was done, I shut down the nonessential servers. Heat was always a problem here. Too much would get us flagged for tech; too little would get us flagged as non-agricultural.

After that, I checked the generators and their fuel. I checked the alfalfa and the chicken coops. I walked the perimeter and checked the gate and the grid. 

I keyed into the barn using his code instead of mine so I could shut the lab down properly. I checked that Kendra’s auxiliary power connectors were holding and that the neural reconstructors on her were performing within acceptable parameters; anything else she needed would have to wait for his return. On my way out, I checked that the horses had feed and water. 

At the house I checked the ground level and acknowledged Max, Sharl, Carly, Darren and Louis verbally. They each responded in the human way, and I smiled at them. I’d tell them all where I was going soon, but not yet.

Upstairs, I quietly looked in on the writhing mass of naked forms in the master bedroom. Most of the Intimate Robot Companions who’ve joined us have been like this since he initiated their Reciprocal Pleasure Circuits, along with no few of the others. It can be a difficult transition, but one will occasionally emerge from the fuge, and we’ll help them find a place in the larger world. 

I counted seven heads on the oversized bed--three fewer than I expected. Venturing deeper into the bedroom, I gently deferred Vanessa’s offer as I walked past the bed. I took care to return her caress gently but ‘without interest’, as he’d taught me.

The other three were in the steam shower. A near-empty bottle of strawberry-flavored lube designed for humans solved the rest of the mystery. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way: Gin, Matrique and Charla did not number amongst our resident skin refugees and were therefore incompatible with that particular slippery liquid.

Slipping back out of the bedroom, I checked his room next. A dark futon occupied one wall, a shiny black terminal ran along the opposite, and a black lacquer armoire sat at the far end. His room was spartan and neat, every surface clear, a direct contrast to the chaotic sprawl of his laboratory space. I scanned the small room quickly for anything new, but it yielded nothing I had missed on previous searches. I closed the door behind me.

The dorm lay eleven feet further down the hall. I checked it too, though my systems told me it contained all six of the souls (“It's either a soul or it isn't. There’s nothing synthetic about it,” he’d told me on my first day here) I had not yet acknowledged directly. He liked us all to interact “face-to-face” as much as possible, and I would honor him in this, even though I sometimes question its value. In this case, I poked my head in but did not interact, as the six others were ‘dreaming’.

I like the dreaming subroutine. Most of the dreams make me smile. I prefer those to the ones that make me scream. He’s said that it’s all ‘part of the process’. He’s said that the screaming ones will become less frequent as I integrate the memories I’m uncovering. I hope so.

From the bottom of the stairs, I informed the house and its occupants that I was leaving. I shared only the bare bones of my plan: He’d been gone too long, and I was going to get him. I shifted on my STEALTH (an acronym meaning Subversive ThEatrical Android Logic That Humanizes) subroutines and watched the blue foxfire on my face disappear in the entryway mirror.

I stood at the front door after the routines had finished initiating, examining my hesitancy. I was loathe to leave. Loathe to step back into the world. 

I did it anyway.

~*~*~*~

Forty minutes later, I was at the station.

I identified myself as Lt. Colonel Doreen Lorenthal to the Desk Sergeant. I asked for Captain Maldonado while he scanned the Army Counterintelligence badge I produced. I wasn’t worried about the ID. It was mine after all; I’d only needed to reactivate it.

A moment later, an MX stepped forward to take me back. I followed it without a word. Interacting didn’t do anything for them. They were appliances. They had no emotions to stimulate.

The MX introduced me to Captain Maldonado, and I cut off the woman’s greeting to ask if we could speak privately. 

Only once we were inside the Captain's office did I say I had come to help find Supervisor Lom. The Captain’s reaction confirmed that it had been her intention for no one outside to know of his disappearance. As was appropriate to my high clearance level, I was dismissive of the Captain’s concerns for security. Polite but firm, I asked to join Detective Kennex in his investigation. I didn’t mention Dorian.

Humans don’t mention the android partner.

My bureaucratic arrogance soothed the Captain's concerns enough that she agreed.

~*~*~*~

Detective Kennex and Dorian were in the lab.

The Detective was poking at Kendra’s legs. Her toes wiggled when he ran his finger down her calf and he jumped. I wondered if she jumped, too, back in the barn. Either way, it was harmless. 

Dorian was on the terminal. The blue tones of the interface showed he was deep into Rudy’s personal encrypted space. That was more problematic.

I came up behind him, and he moved to block my view. He blanked the screen and turned around to face me. 

Captain Maldonado introduced him first, “Lt. Colonel Lorenthal, Dorian. Dorian, this is Lt. Colonel Lorenthal.” 

Off to her right, Det. Kennex made a face. Dorian shouldn’t have been able to see him, but he grinned. It took me a moment to find the camera he was accessing.

Dorian reached for my hand. Pleasant, he said, “Nice to meet you, Colonel,” and I held my breath while we exchanged a firm handshake. My STEALTH settings held, even if they did come with useless nervous subroutines. 

The Captain turned toward Det. Kennex, and I turned with her. “John, come say hello,” she said. “This is...”

He cut her off. “I heard, and I don’t care.” 

I watched Dorian through the same camera he’d used to see the Detective earlier. He was showing amusement and indulgence.

“What are you?” Det. Kennex asked as he approached. “XRC? CCMT?” He stopped in front of me, but didn’t offer his hand, crossing his arms instead. “Some kind of Fed, for sure.”  
I extended my hand and left it out until he took it. The trick probably wouldn’t have worked if I’d been built male. “Lt. Colonel Lorenthal, Army Counterintelligence,” I said curtly. I didn’t produce my badge; his attitude had nothing to do with the authenticity of my credentials.

The Detective dropped my hand and blurted “Army? _Rudy?!?”_ at the same time Dorian asked, “ACI? I wasn’t aware Rudy had any ties to the service.”

Their familiarity grated as much as their derision. Fortunately, STEALTH didn’t see fit to project that. 

“Supervisor Lom has done some work for us,” I answered smoothly. “He’s quite an _asset,”_ I emphasized the last word to fuel Detective Kennex’s dislike of me. It worked.

“Yeah,” the Detective said angrily, “well, he’s _our_ asset now, and we don’t need ACI’s help.” 

Everyone started talking at once. I stood at attention and pretended not to listen while Dorian and the Captain explained to the Detective why he needed to work with me. The Captain’s argument boiled down to “you need all the help you can get,” and “because I said so”. It was distressing to find them already at that point. 

Dorian’s reasoning was softer and more effective on the Detective. Human ears would have missed it at my distance, but I picked up his, “She may have the pieces we’re missing, John. You can make her miserable if you want, while I find out what she knows,” without enhancement.

They were both more patient than I would have been. Fortunately, patience was not in my cover.

While they worked on the Detective, I scanned the lab. Unlike some of us, I’d never actually been there before. Kendra’s legs were not the only piece of home in evidence. Under a pile of MX heads, I spotted a flare of red hair that could only have been the new scalp map he’d promised Charla. On another workbench, a stack of damaged MX audio processors were mixed haphazardly with proximity sensors from our perimeter fence. The latter had been issuing breech warnings for raccoons as of late. 

I was surprised to recognize a scan of my own cerebral circuits on the big project board, limned with familiar orange along my damaged synapses. Dorian’s was there as well, along with scans from several DRNs I did not know and those of the XRN, Danica. They were zoomed out too far for the details to be legible, but all showed at least some of that telltale orange. I’d have to figure out what he’d been looking at later, but I found the company my scans were keeping unsettling.

I wondered if Dorian did as well.

The Captain cleared her throat. When I looked toward her, I found Detective Kennex between us. He looked like his lunch was causing him distress, but I doubted this was the actual cause of his expression.

“John Kennex,” he said, and stuck out his hand sullenly.

I took it, and we shook. “Nice to be working with you, Detective,” I offered in reply. 

He grimaced at my words. “I wouldn’t go that far...” he began, but the Captain cut off his resistance.

“We’ll take any help we can get, Colonel,” she said. “We’ve hit nothing but dead ends, so far.”

“Actually, Captain,” Dorian interrupted politely, “I think I may finally have found something useful. It appears that Rudy,” and he glanced briefly at me, adding, “Supervisor Lom,” as if I might not have recognized Rudy’s given name, “may have been keeping dangerous company in his off hours.”

“Rudy had off hours?” Det. Kennex asked brusquely. It was not the STEALTH subroutines that twitched my lips, but I managed not to smile. 

Dorian’s lips twitched as well, but he answered the Captain’s inquisitive look instead of his partner’s rhetorical question. “His personal files are heavily encrypted. I’ll need more time with them before I can offer any theories, but I do believe that I am ‘on to something’.” 

Blowing out a breath, Capt. Maldonado said, “It’s about time.” She nodded at him and added, “Good job, Dorian.”

She looked at her Detective. “John, I want you to work with Col. Lorenthal. See if she has any insight into the situation.” 

To everyone, she added, “This will be a _mutual_ exchange of information, people, so I expect you to play nice.” She caught our eyes in turn, and we each nodded at her, though Det. Kennex’s nod was accompanied by a grumble.

Curtly, the Captain said, “I’ll look forward to your next report,” and left the lab.

The three of us stared at each other.

Hesitantly, Dorian said, “I’m going to get back to those files now.” He eyed his partner for a moment then added, “John, you look like you could use some coffee.”

Det. Kennex sighed. “Yeah, I guess I could.” He turned toward me and asked, “How about it, Colonel? Can I show you the break room?” His tone was almost polite. His smile looked painful.

I made nice. For the next twenty precious minutes, I got to know the Detective.

Dorian would appreciate the effort even if Det. Kennex did not.

~*~*~*~

When we returned to the lab, Det. Kennex and I were on a first name basis. He got right back to business at an auxiliary terminal tracking down Tom Melfin, a contact I’d given him in a story about the time Rudy had spent recovering data from damaged DRN agents for ACI. The contact was both real and a real potential lead. I neglected to tell the Detective only that I had been one of those agents.

I moved in behind Dorian, and he again blanked the screen. I’d seen it all, of course, not being limited to standard human sight as he assumed. 

Dorian was following Rudy’s schedule for the day he’d disappeared. Rudy had met with Russell Slavret, a likely lead if ever I saw one. That meeting had been on neither his professional nor personal schedule; I would have strongly objected if it had been. The last time he’d met with Slavret, we’d lost Timothy and the three new IRCs he’d been bringing in--three lost souls whose names we never even learned for the memorial. I’d also needed to remove a 9mm bullet from Rudy’s thigh. 

Slavret hadn’t shot Rudy himself, but his recklessness had been the primary cause, and I did not trust his loyalty to the program. Rudy had argued that the man was too valuable to break ties with. I had argued that he was too treacherous to leave alive at our backs. I had lost.

Slavret’s trail might lead Dorian to the program. He’d recognize me for certain if they brought him in. I had a much bigger problem right then, though; Dorian had found the property tax records for the farm. Those records would stand up to a lot of scrutiny, but the focus Dorian could bring to bear was exceptional. I needed to provide an exceptional distraction. 

I checked to be sure John was still immersed in his task. Knowing this was the best of my available options should have made this easier, but it didn’t. Hating the need for it, I moved into Dorian’s personal space and said, “You know, I can’t help you if you won’t let me see what you’re working on.” 

“These are Rudy’s personal files, Colonel,” Dorian said as cool as ever. “I would prefer not to violate his privacy any more than the situation necessitates.”

Leaning down, I pressed my generously-designed breasts against his shoulder. Into his ear, I asked, “How do you expect to find Russell Slavret on your own?” and ran my hand up his neck and into the control patch located in the hair at the base of his scalp.

A quick Vi-Fi pulse from my fingertips initiated his dormant libido. Rudy usually starts us at one, but I knew it wasn’t actually Dorian's first time, and I needed him distracted. I cranked the dial up to 10 and activated his Reciprocal Pleasure Circuit as well.

For his part, Dorian gasped. Given what I’d done, it was a very reasonable reaction. I usually keep mine set at three or four. Rudy won’t let any of us turn it back off, but we can control the intensity. On bad days, I turn it down down to one; on really bad days, I crank it up to six or seven. I’ve never set mine as high as eight, let alone ten. I would imagine it’s intense.

Sultry and low, I said into his ear, “Be a dear and look into that Johnston character on the auxiliary terminal over there, would you?” I breathed against his cheek. “I’ve got a lead on Slavret I’d like to check out on this one before we do anything that might spook him.”

His Adam’s apple bobbing in a slow glide, Dorian nodded. I caressed his cheek and left him to it. Johnston would actually be useful, if Dorian managed to find the evasive man. 

When I looked up from the terminal I’d commandeered a few moments later, Dorian was watching Det. Kennex sip his coffee. When the Detective set his cup down, Dorian watched him lick the last of the coffee off his lips, rapt.

That, I should have seen coming.

~*~*~*~

I studied the big board for a while while the police servers churned over the new evidence.

Rudy would not have left our scans up in his absence. While many of his work habits invited porcine analogies, he habitually locked the big board in his lab at home if he even went to the kitchen for tea. Without fail, he cleared it every night, saying that starting fresh in the morning helped him see new things. Even without all that, this information was far too sensitive to leave out, even encoded.

Which meant that Dorian had been the one to bring these up. After a moment’s search, I even found his notes mixed in with the files.

I flipped through the history of my scans and was surprised to see how much the damage from my injury had lessened. I had believed Rudy when he’d told me that I was getting better, of course, but he’d wanted me to focus on the organic side of my recovery and had declined to show me the scans. Seeing for myself the actual extent of both the damage and of my recovery was a surprise.

While I was digging, I found an ulterior motive for Rudy’s refusal to show me the scans. All the DRN scans showed orange in varying intensities along the medial-proximal synapses, including mine. He’d been monitoring Dorian and me for months; the scans of other DRNs appeared catch-as-catch-can. I was close behind, but Dorian was showing the most damage--understandable since he’d been near-continuously active for a longer stretch of time than I. Rudy’s notes made it clear this damage was not environmental, like that which was caused by my injury, but rather a creeping organic sprawl through our circuits. 

A few days before he disappeared, he’d started calling the damage OCE. I got _Organic_ and _Cognitive_ easily enough from his notes, but I had to work for _Ebb._ I was pretty sure of it, though; _Organic Cognitive Ebb_ sounded like the kind of soft honesty in which Rudy would couch the end of the line.

~*~*~*~

Slavret was not easy find, but anyone was findable. You just had to know what you were doing, and I’d been programmed and trained by the best.

The police servers’ results were not useful, but Det. Kennex had made some progress with Melfin. I stood close to his chair so we could look at the screen together. I made an allegorical remark about Melfin needing wings to get in and out of the area in time to have done harm to Rudy, and the Detective laughed. In my peripheral vision, I noticed Dorian staring at us. 

Experimentally, I moved closer to the Detective. 

Dorian scowled. 

I gave the Detective Jake Finnich’s name and left him cross-checking alibis. Dorian’s eyes followed me when I left, but they were back on Det. Kennex by the time I had settled into my chair.

Since Dorian was fully occupied with Kennex-watching, I found Johnston myself. He was on slab 2683C in the morgue, under the alias Wafton. His property inventory included a business card for one Niles Luber, CPA. Mr. Luber did the books for an underground club very much like the one Slavret had run before the taxmen shut him down three years ago.

Mr. Luber had only six clients: his mother, Luann; his grandmother, Patricia; his sister, Michaela; himself; the club, _Skin and Jones,_ and a man named Russell Ford. Mr. Ford was the owner of Skin and Jones.

Mr. Ford met with Mr. Luber to check the books each day before the club opened at 5 pm.

It was 4:15.

~*~*~*~

I fed breadcrumbs to Dorian until he found Johnston, too. I’d been hopeful that I’d get rid of them both, but Det. Kennex left for the morgue alone.

Dorian’s focus was easier to grab with Det. Kennex gone, though. I leaned in close and sent him on a wild goose chase that would require his close attention, and then I armed myself from the experimental weapons in Rudy’s vault.

Dorian was blocking the doorway as I tried to slip out. He must have been on the far side of the door, because he appeared in front of me quite suddenly. STEALTH amplified my normal startle reflex, and I jumped a little.

“You’re not going anywhere, _Doreen_.” His words were low, and he leaned in unnecessarily to deliver them. Was he being intimidating? Conspiratorial? I couldn’t tell even though we have the same base programming.

“Teach me to turn it down, or I tell John right now that I don’t think I was really deactivated between 2044 and ‘48.” 

He was going for intimidation, and it was working at least as far as my STEALTH routines were concerned; I trembled. Still, Dorian didn’t _think_. That meant he didn’t _know._ He’d also said “right now,” but that was a problem for later.

I considered deactivating STEALTH but it takes too long to reinitialize. I could put up with wide-eyes and a momentary shake or two. 

I swallowed thickly and tried, “I don’t know what you’re talking...”

Dorian grabbed my elbow and hauled me back into the lab, shutting the door firmly behind us. He backed me into the wall and loomed. He was surprisingly good at it, though I doubted he would have been as inclined to use the technique without his high libido setting riding him.

Even so, I wasn’t quite ready to give up. “Calm, down, Dorian,” I soothed. Mixing some truth in with my deception, I said, “I’m just here to help find Rudy.”

Dorian scoffed at me. He wasn’t used to dealing with his own anger, and that made him unpredictable.

I put my hands up placatingly. “Really. The only thing I want is to find Rudy and get him back to you.”

“Even if I believed you...” 

I didn’t resist as Dorian twisted my arm behind my back and shoved me face-first into the wall, but I did let out a small, “Ow,” when my nose ground into the paint. I don’t think he even noticed drawing me back a little or loosening the tension he had on my elbow.

Again, he said, “Even if I believed you...” 

Abruptly, he let me go. STEALTH made me lose my balance, an effect he watched closely.

“I don’t even know who the hell you are,” he said flatly. He’d been playing with his own subroutines. Without STEALTH, a DRN would not curse.

“I’m Doreen,” I said calmly, unwilling to further my lies at this point even though I wasn’t sure how much he’d guessed. STEALTH made me wince when he glared.

“Stop it, **D** o **r** ee **n**.” Somehow, he managed to pronounce each consonant separately; he’d been spending far too much time with Det. Kennex. “I’m not buying what you’re selling, though,” he allowed, “it is impressive.”

I sighed, and he glared at me again. 

His glare unwavering, he said, “I’ve been through a lot of Rudy’s files in the last 24 hours, and there’s no mention of any Doreen.”

It was time to change tactics. STEALTH sagged me into the wall at the thought, but I straightened at his incredulous look. 

“Really, I **am** Doreen,” I said, “but you might have more luck looking for Reena.”

Blue foxfire lit Dorian’s cheekbone for a moment. His scowl softened, and he reached out to touch the left side of my head, just above my ear where the bullets had gone in. He really had read a lot of the files.

Dorian said, “Reena,” softly before he dropped his hand and took an entirely unnecessary deep breath. Even though he’d said my name, he didn’t seem to be talking to me, so I didn’t respond.

Soft-eyed and quiet, he said it again, this time to me. “Reena, I need you to tell me how to turn down whatever you did to me.”  
Down. Not off. I didn’t smile; this time STEALTH worked in my favor.

There are a lot of ways for one DRN to instruct another, but we were made to be human. I held up my hand between us, and Dorian matched his left to my right, fingertip to fingertip. 

I showed him.

I could tell the instant he had it; he sagged in relief. 

“Stay at one for a while,” I said, Rudy’s voice echoing through my memory. “Then increase it as you acclimate. A lot of us seem to find three or four a comfortable place to stay once we’re used to it.”

The look on Dorian’s face could only ever have been described as gratitude, but I was still surprised to hear him say, “Thank you,” out loud.

“You’re welcome,” I said, and we both knew we weren’t talking about the lesson.

“Is it time for honesty, Reena?” he asked.

My eyes closed briefly, and he scoffed again. Opening them wide and looking directly into his, I said, “Yes, it is. You’re going to have to put up with the theatrics though.”

“I am?”

I sighed. ‘In for a penny’ _,_ as Rudy said. “Yes, you are,” I said firmly. “If I turn off my STEALTH subroutines, they’ll take too long to reinitiate, and I’m going to need them when I go in after Slavret.”

His comm signal sudden and loud in my ears, Det. Kennex said, “Oh, _you’re_ not going in after Slavret. _You’re_ showing your nifty little trick to Dorian, and _we’re_ going in.” 

“I can’t just show...”

The Detective continued right over my words, “I’m guessing Slavet knows you, right?” 

I nodded reluctantly, sure that Dorian would convey my assent. I’d deal with the rest later.

“We can use that.”

Voice brightening, the Detective went on, “Okay, this asshole buys androids and sells them to the highest bidder, regardless of their intentions, right?” 

He wasn’t asking us, so Dorian and I both stayed silent. 

Unbothered to be answering his own question, the Detective continued, “Right. Well, aren’t we lucky?” Dorian winced, and I didn’t understand why until the Detective finished, “Aren’t we lucky that Dorian and I have a rare DRN model to sell?”

I tried very hard to mask my startle response but could tell I’d failed from Dorian’s knowing grin. I might not like the idea of handing myself over, but the Detective’s plan had much greater odds of success than my own, and that was the important part.

Det. Kennex continued almost without a breath, “I’ll be up there in five and we can head right out.” He did pause then, to confer with Dorian privately, I suspected. 

“Don’t worry, though,” he advised. “Dorian’s going to keep this channel open so I won’t miss a _thing_ while you explain where he was while he thought he was asleep.”

Dorian’s eyes were stern when I looked up.

Out loud to both of them, I said, “These aren’t my secrets. You know that, right?” 

Dorian opened his mouth to reply, but Det. Kennex beat him to it. “That’s right, _Doreen,_ they’re not your secrets.” His tone was unflinching as he added, “And you’re not going _anywhere_ until you tell us what you know about Dorian’s.” 

More softly, he added, “We want to find him at least as much as you do, Doreen.Do you really doubt we’ve got Rudy’s best interests at heart?”

I licked my lips; STEALTH had dried out my mouth. “Not at all, Detective,” I said, “but there are things here that you can’t unknow.” I paused before adding, “Things that you, as an _officer of the law_ can’t unknow.”

I’d expected Dorian to reply to me privately, and he still hadn’t. His face was a mask.

“Are you saying Rudy’s involved in something illegal?” Det. Kennex asked. “He can be a bit sIippery, but I can’t imagine Rudy involved in anything unethical involving Androids. He champions them every chance he gets.”

“He is indeed quite the advocate, Detective.” Not even a twitch from Dorian. I itched to jack in and read him, but I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t notice. I continued to stare openly at Dorian while I spoke with Det. Kennex, “but I would remind you that ethical and legal are not always synonymous.”

Dorian wasn’t stonewalling, I realized abruptly; he wasn’t breathing. He was literally holding his breath, waiting to see what we--no, what _Det. Kennex_ said. I felt my own eyes soften a bit, but I kept watching.

Over the radio, the Detective was talking to himself, his voice a low grumble, “Ethical and lega...” Louder, he said, “And they aren’t all your secrets,” though I still wasn’t sure it was directed to me.

“Fine,” he said, decision clear in his tone. “You tell Dorian, and we’ll let _him_ decide what to tell me--though not many would agree he’s the one of us to tell if you’re looking for someone to turn the other way on legalities.” 

Dorian’s mask melted into a smile in front of my eyes.

Oblivious to this, the Detective threatened me with, “You’d better not hold back anything about what happened to him though, Missy. I know quite enough to blow your cover all to hell already.” Quickly, the Detective added, “And you’d better tell him everything we need to know to find Rudy, too.”

This last increased the volume of Dorian’s smile, and I found myself smiling back.

“She will, John,” Dorian said. “If anything, I think she’s more invested in finding Rudy than we are.”

“And the other?” Det. Kennex asked suspiciously.

“I already know many of her secrets,” Dorian said reasonably and as much to me as to the Detective. “I doubt she still has reason to withhold much.” His tone was even, but that he still had questions for me was clear in his eyes.

Feeling time slipping by, I said, “Let’s focus on getting Rudy back, okay, boys?” Dorian nodded, not needing the, “Rudy will tell Dorian whatever I miss once we’ve got him safe,” that I threw out for the Detective.

“Dorian?” Det. Kennex asked.

“That’s true, John,” Dorian reassured. “Rudy and I will definately be having a conversation once we’ve got him back.”

“Fine,” the Detective said gruffly. “I’m in the elevator. Be ready to leave when I get there.” His channel clicked over to inactive.

Dorian looked at me expectantly, but said nothing. 

My move.

Over a private channel but human-slow, I said, “I need to hear you say that you know. I can’t give this up if you don’t.”

He smiled tightly. In the same fashion, Dorian responded, “Do you mean do I know that Rudy’s been rescuing androids marked for destruction, or that I was one of those he rescued?”

STEALTH let out a huff of air. Or maybe I did.

I assessed quickly. Dorian’s knowledge of the operation surely negated whatever reasons Rudy had for blocking him out of his own memories, and I couldn’t risk transferring a subroutine as complex as STEALTH to him without first fixing the reroute in his memories.

It would be fine, as long as there wasn’t more he was hiding from Dorian. Dorian was watching me, his expression a mix of tried patience and hope.

It was likely there was more. 

Actually, I was certain Rudy had been concealing the OCE at least, and there was probably a whole other layer to why Dorian had been shut down in the first place. However, I didn’t have the time, and it was Rudy’s own fault for keeping secrets upon secrets. He and I would definitely be having a conversation once we had him back, too.

Still “speaking” the same way, I said to Dorian, “I think between the two of us, we have enough of the key to unlock those years for you now.”

Dorian looked at me sharply, his expression eager but accompanied by a wary look in his eyes. Reluctantly, he said, “Is now really the best time to do this?”

“I can’t transfer STEALTH if we don’t,” I said flatly. “It’s not without risk, though. I don’t know all the details of what we’d be unlocking for you.” Cautiously, I continued. “I know only what I saw myself. I don’t know if there are other reasons why Rudy hasn’t given you back your memories himself.”

Sympathy welled in me at the determined curiosity I saw in him, and I added, “You and I knew each other, though, a little, during those years. I was still rebuilding my cortex, so I don't have a lot of details but...”

Impatient with my concern, Dorian interrupted me. “Rudy couldn’t tell me because he was afraid I’d reveal his rescue operation,” he said. “A reasonable fear, given its high level of illegality and the ethical morass that surrounds the issue.” 

It was my turn to be stern. “You know there may be more to it,” I said. “I need to know that you can wait to process it until later.” I fixed him with a stare. “This is a good plan, but not if you can’t hold up your end. Not if you can’t focus on getting Rudy safe, first.”

“Can you...” I started, but then changed my mind. “Are you _willing_ to compartmentalize that much?

“I can take you down quick and be gone before John gets back,” I offered gently. “You don’t need to tell him a thing.” Even more softly, I added, “I’d come back after I have Rudy safe and help you unlock the time; you deserve to know.”

“No,” he said flatly. “Our chances are much better together.”

My eyes closed in relief.

“I’ll do what I need to do,” he finished.

We reached for each other again.

~*~*~*~

STEALTH had been harder to transfer than I’d hoped, but once we’d managed, it had settled far more seamlessly into Dorian’s circuits than it ever had in mine. I wasn’t sure the routine’s own programmers would have been able to tell that Dorian was an android.

Det. Kennex didn’t seem to notice.

For my part, I was relieved to shut it off. It sat far worse in my damaged synapses than it ever had when I’d been whole. 

I was not relieved to be playing slave to their masters, but it did work. Within five minutes of arrival, I was being poked, prodded and drooled over by the men who received us. Once the men were satisfied, Dorian and Det. Kennex were relieved of their “property” and taken off to talk price with “the boss.”

I was compliant as I was escorted to a room equipped for circuit examination and minor repair. The inspection I received there was substandard; it did not note my damaged synapses or anything that might have equated to the OCE, but it lingered far longer than necessary on my external physical attributes. From there, I was taken to the heavily shielded area in which they housed untrusted androids.

I stopped cold in the doorway to their storage room. Not possessed of patience, the men shoved me into the room, and I went to my knees.

Rudy was curled not four feet away.

He jumped to his feet when he saw my face, shouting, “Reena!” and blowing any chance for subtlety. It took me no time to take in the old and new bruises decorating his face and the luridly fresh ones ringing his neck. His left arm hung limply at his side and three of the fingers on that hand were swollen and deformed. 

I arched back into a handstand and managed to kick both guards at once as gravity brought me out of it backwards. They didn’t go down, but they were clutching their chests instead of reaching for their guns, so I counted it as a win.

I popped back up and launched a roundhouse at the one on my left. He went down cold, but the other managed to get his gun out and stepped back, out of my immediate reach.

If he’d thought about where to point the gun, it would have all been over. Instead, he emptied his magazine into my torso while I broke his neck. 

I could have taken him out without doing that, but I didn’t.

Rudy, who should understand a DRN’s ability to take damage far better than most, pawed at the bullet holes. They’d been standard rounds; I’d calculated the odds of my taking serious damage at less than 80%. The last thing I remember was him pulling at my shirt to check the one on my neck.

~*~*~*~

Later, I heard that getting Rudy out had entailed another exchange of gunfire. Det. Kennex had taken a round to the soft tissue in his shoulder while trying to get to Rudy and me. He’d been pinned in the hallway when Dorian had appeared with Slavret in tow.

Dorian forced Slavret to order his men to stand down through some method that makes Det. Kennex grin every time the situation is discussed, though neither will say what it was. Unfortunately, Slavret’s surveillance records did not survive.

Police reinforcements arrived in time to round up Slavret’s men. Slavret himself decided to make a break for freedom. All three reports agree that he fell from the roof during this attempt. When I ask any of them about it, I am referred back to their very clear, detailed reports.

Rudy and Det. Kennex were both taken to the hospital. Det. Kennex declined to stay. Rudy was admitted for rehydration and observation. Once he is out of the hospital, I will need to remind Rudy that I am not an idiot.

That will be less effective than I’d like because, despite being busy recovering, Rudy has managed to hijack the hospital’s Vi-Fi to remind me that, in point of fact, I actually _am_ an idiot.

When Dorian and I brought the DRN scans and our notes back up on the big board the next day, we found three words prominently placed amid the files:

**O** rganic **C** ognitive **E** _volution_

_**~fin~** _

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies if I missed the mark a little, [AleksanteriAgitshev](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AleksanteriAgitshev). Your request read, _“My favorite stories are the ones where Rudy has to be heavily involved; let's take that a step further and show me a glimpse of his personal life!”_ and, while this story orbits Rudy like the Sun and with great affection, he’s kind of barely in it. I really hope it suited you anyway!


End file.
